Homecoming
by El-Maybonics
Summary: It's time for Marty Deeks' high school reunion. But he and Kensi can't just dance to the great 80's music; they also have to solve a gruesome murder. A Revenge-verse case fic


**A/N:- **It's been a long time coming, the story just sitting there. This tale takes place in the Revenge-verse, following _Vanished_. It's probably recommended that you read those first, a least the non-M rated ones. Chapter updates may be slow coming.  
**Disclaimer:-** I don't own any of these characters. This is not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine.

* * *

The morning sun was bright and yellow as it filled every inch of the Spanish-style mission. Over empty desks and wide spaces it cast its light, creeping, warming the flagstones and the wood.

Henrietta "Hetty" Lange liked the mornings most of all, when she could sit at her desk, and sip a bracing cup of steaming hot tea. The tea awoke the mind and the body better than anything else she had discovered in her many, many, years of life, and the various lives she had had within it. _No, indeed_, she thought, resting the cup gently on the saucer. _There's never been anywhere, at any time, better that this right now._

She knew who the first to arrive would be, and exhibited no surprise when Special Agent G. Callen strode through the doors from the car park, his laptop bag slung over one shoulder, and made his way to the bullpen.

The young – or at least, young compared to Hetty – agent cast his cool blue eyes over at Hetty's desk, giving her a nod of good morning. She smiled back at him, raising the cup slightly in salute.

Next through was Eric Beale, bright and early from the surf. Again, her lack of surprise at his lack of pants – wearing instead those ghastly board shorts – was evident. The lanky tech operator bounded up the stairs, for the darkness of Ops.

He'd barely reached the top when his partner in crime, Nell Jones, arrived. The brainy data analyst walked casually, giving Callen a cheerful wave, before heading up too.

Then Callen's partner, the large ex-SEAL Sam Hanna, arrived, and the day began in full.

"Mornin, G," Sam said cheerfully, taking his seat on the opposite desk. "You sleep here again?"

"I have my own home now," Callen said, by way of a response.

"No, what you have is a house. A home has things in it, besides a roll-up bed and a box of trinkets."

"I don't need anything more than that," Callen replied.

"G, it's been seven years," Sam said. "Surely you're going to be putting down roots at some point."

"This is the longest I've ever stayed on one place," Callen said, eyes already back on the open laptop on the desk before him. "And the longest I've ever had a partner. Speaking of which, maybe it's time I ask Hetty for a new one. The one I have now just complains all the time."

"What's Sam complaining about now?" came a female voice, as the two remaining members of Hetty's elite team ambled into the Bullpen together. Kensi Blye and her boyfriend, LAPD Liaison Marty Deeks, took their places at the desks, looking from Sam to Callen and back again.

"He's complaining that I don't put down roots," Callen explained.

"Oh," drawled the blond detective. "Must be Tuesday."

"There's nothing wrong with putting down roots," said Sam, exasperated. "Especially when you've been in one place for as long as we have."

"I gotta side with Callen on this one," said Kensi (earning a small "Of course you do" from her partner). "Setting up a home is a lot of work. I remember when I first moved into my apartment… it was a nightmare. Trust me when I say, now I'm set up there, I'm not moving from it for love or money. It's too much of a hassle."

"You're never moving out of your apartment?" asked Deeks.

"No," she replied, missing the edge to her boyfriend's voice. "I like my apartment now; everything's exactly where I want it."

"Except it takes you an hour to find anything you need," said Callen with a grin. He glanced at Sam. "That's why I only have my roll-up mattress and box of trinkets."

"I've always had my roots in LA," said Deeks, giving his partner a look that the woman clearly didn't notice, or didn't understand. "You know, for whatever happened here… it's my home."

"Mine too," said Sam. "My family is here. My job. All my friends."

"You have friends outside of work?" said Callen, sounding just a little bit hurt.

"Of course I do," said Sam. "Are you serious? We all have friends outside of the office. Are you telling me you don't have one single friend that doesn't work for NCIS?"

"Well, I have that one guy," Callen said. "Works for LAPD. But I wouldn't really class him as a friend, more like someone who shows up every day and we can't get rid of."

"Oh, ha ha," said Deeks, taking the jab with his usual laid back nature.

"I just like my privacy," Callen continued. "People don't need to know every little last thing there is to know about me. I'm a closed book."

"Well, I…" said Deeks, "am an open book. You can ask me anything, and I will let you know."

"You have an off-switch?" asked Sam.

"Oooh," Kensi cooed delightedly. "Yeah, you have an off-switch?"

"When, uh, when did this all become about me?" Deeks asked.

"Just easy," Kensi replied, with an easy smile, grinning at the man she loved.

"You did say that you're an open book," said Callen. "Of course, we all know it's one of those books with the thick cardboard pages, and about four words on each one."

"'See Deeks run'," grinned Sam. "'Run, Deeks, run. Run home Deeks'."

"I have a question," said Hetty, appearing at the exact perfect moment, and from the one spot she knew her team – who were highly trained in special awareness – would not have been watching. She was pleased to see them not jump too much, but react.

"Oh, Hetty, hey," said Kensi. "You've lived in Los Angeles for how long now?"

Hetty turned a steady gaze on the female agent, not saying anything. Kensi flicked her eyes nervously towards her partner for support, but the shaggy haired blond wisely held his tongue.

"I just, you know, we were talking about roots," Kensi babbled. "And just wondering how you found having roots in Los Angeles compared to living in other places."

Hetty clasped her hands behind her back, observing the young agent through her large lensed glasses. "Roots," she said, "are an important thing. To everyone. Which is why, Detective Deeks, I wonder why you have not yet replied to your high school's reunion, this Friday?"

The agents all turned as one towards their liaison. He drew back under their stares.

"Your high school reunion is coming up?" Kensi asked. "You didn't tell me."

"Well I, uh, that is, you know I, I wasn't going to uhm, wasn't going to go, you know?" he said. "We're just so busy, what with all the cases we have on, and, and, and I didn't know if I'd be able to get away, if we might have a stakeout that night. It's hard enough to make plans around this job as it is, you know?"

"And is that the only reason you are so reluctant to attend, detective?" Hetty asked, turning her gorgon stare towards him.

"Yeah," he said "Of course, why wouldn't it be the only reason? What other reason could there possible be?"

"Well, detective, if it will put you mind at rest," Hetty said, "I can ensure that you have the day uninterrupted. So that you can attend."

"Ohhhhh," said Deeks. "No, Hetty, you don't have to do that."

"But I insist," she replied. Kensi gave a small chuckle. "You as well, Ms Blye," Hetty finished, cutting the laughter off. "The detective will need a plus one."

"Oh," she said. "But I think that I need to…"

"Excellent," Hetty said, ploughing right over the top of her objections. "That's settled then. Barring a national emergency, I'm sure that Misters Callen and Hanna can deal with anything that arises."

"No, no," said Kensi, eyes pleading at the senior agent. "We wouldn't want to leave you both high and dry."

Callen grinned, pulling himself from his chair. "No, I think we'll be fine," he said. "What do you reckon Sam?"

"I think we'll manage without liaising with LAPD for one night," the big man answered, chuckling. "And Kensi, I think you deserve a day off. You work so hard, having to put up with Deeks all the time."

"So my reward is to spend _more_ time with him?" she exclaimed.

"You know, if you didn't want to spend so much time with me," said Deeks, grinning, "maybe you shouldn't have started dating me?"

"I'm regretting it more and more each day," she said, sticking her tongue out at him to show she was joking.

"That's settled then," said Hetty, clapping her hands together. "I've taken the liberty of already responding to your school's reunion committee."

Kensi gave a somewhat pained grin in reply.

Then, the whistle sounded from upstairs. Eric appeared on the balcony to call them up for their next case.

* * *

Friday came by much too quickly. And with it, no signs of an emergency big enough to keep Deeks from attending his high school reunion. No matter how many times he begged, pleaded, and just downright supplicated himself before Nell and Eric. If he didn't know better, he was pretty sure the two tech geeks had been told not to let him have even a glimmer of hope. Ah, who was he kidding; of course they'd been told to do that.

He'd tried lingering in the office long after the work day had ended, but Hetty had found him in the firing range and told him to leave. She'd already sent Kensi off, who apparently had been hiding in the little nook behind Ops where Sam used to hang his punch bag. Deeks felt a small pang of something, wondering why his partner was so reluctant to see where he had come from. Then he remembered exactly where he had come from, and understood her reluctance came from the exact same source as his. Kensi Blye might love him dearly – and that still sounded strange and normal at the same time – but she knew what his formative years had been like. High school had been the lightest of the hells he'd had to endure.

So home he'd gone, feeding Monty and reminding the shaggy mutt to stay out of the neighbours plants, before changing into a fresh pair of jeans and a black button down shirt. He was just rolling up his sleeves when the doorbell rang.

Kensi greeted him as he opened the door, and his brain did one of those little jump starts whenever he saw his girlfriend looking drop-dead gorgeous; dressed in a knee length black dress that clung to her figure just enough, her hair wavy and enticing, and her eyes sparkling. She gave him a small smile.

"Ready?" she asked.

He shook his head, closing the door behind on his way out.


End file.
